September is for lovers, I find comfort in the covers cuddled up next to you, maybe too much so because sometimes I even drool, dancing on the couch and watching tv, I love the way you lay your eyes on me, holding hands and taking walks, you're always laughing at my mismatched socks, with you I know I will always feel good enough.

Has anybody seen my youth?
i left it here I could have sworn
I've looked in the loft
and I've looked in the shed
I've even looked underneath the bed
I've been round to the neighbours to see if its there
and I've looked in the cupboard under the stair
I've searched in every nook and cranny
I'm telling you this is really uncanny
because all at once I looked and it was gone
Just like those ...

By concrete honey-combed Centre Point
Briskly paced towards Soho
Passing illuminated tooting taxis
Striding down the Charing Cross Road
To join a queue of alternatives
Outside the stuccoed dome crowned bay
Under the fretted signage board
Spelling the name of the band who’ll play
Tonight, at the Astoria

The night blossoms
as Charlemagne reaches
through the speakers
of the dusty Crosley cruiser.
Guitars rattle the shutters
of turmoil ridden hearts
and release the inner song.
The vinyl spins.
Troubles crackle
and burn as Catfish
and bottle men
cackle and dance
around the fire in our souls.
They pacify our wandering minds
through headphones
and late night strolls.
In the cold,...

We were nearly there
you in the driving seat
him with the map
denim shorts
patchwork patches
grandad cardies
Swan Vesta matches
Me in the back
with Giggly Sis
hippy frocks and
bright red socks
headscarves, dreads
and celtic art
all off to a festival
heard about on the vine
from a bloke down the pub
with a roll up
a nose ring
a quintessential
dog on string

when did we four last meet
with doctor martins on our feet
hubble, bubble trick or treat
kiss and tell arms to greet
looks that kill in a heartbeat
concrete steps as a seat
stir the cauldron feel the heat
cool as fuck neat neat neat
no surrender no retreat
angel faces so petite
whiplash smiles sugar sweet
weird sisters of the street

Such were the joys,
When we were girls and boys,
That at night when we lay in our nest
Ready for rest,
We were no more seen
Beneath the fair moon beams.

When into play came those rosy lips,
Dews of passion arose in vapoured wisps.
As your fingers lay fitted in mine,
The faithless turned to think of the divine.
And all that was chained in depth and height,
Had broadened, freeing the so...

the rain drums his fingers impatiently
along the length of a blue dusting lung busting puckered roof
and fingers the gaps where once there was glass
wire veined, designed to resist
a boot, a fist a flick of the wristy bone
trebuchet yet now carpeting this concrete nest
of surly youth in a crystal expression of boys
when they are bored
nowhere better then than this Park Drive smo...

I felt nothing at first.
Just the loud crack of a distant whip, the echo
Bouncing through the crumbling streets and fetid alleyways,
Painted with the stench of unintentional sacrifices
And scorched by the Middle Eastern sun.
He can see me, this one, even now,
Staring down the lens like a wayward sailor scanning distant rocks for Sirens,
Tempting him to death.
He’s watching me cr...

MISUNDERSTOOD
Random moves and shameless dudes,
Midnight shades and sullen moods.
Roaming dark streets in silent hoods,
Secret signs and stolen goods.
A world of violence and cold, stark fear.
No words to be spoken, no sounds to hear.
Hiding in the shadows, in dark, dank doorways.
Sneaking through alleys, in the damp winter haze.
Cold empty gaze, no emotion or regret.
Steal...

My mate sent some song lyrics to me, by some band. I read them after reading my story on my nuclear armed stealth jet being used in anger. I’m trying to make sense of the cold war I grew up in now, so many years later. It’s so crazy. The younger kids have no idea but my mate does, he’s only 21 but he tries to understand what it was like growing up under the shadow of the...